


Where Your Heart Rests

by snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Found Family, Have a Happy Hobbit Holiday Gift Exchange, Insomnia, Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/snowmissus
Summary: Bilbo has been hearing strange rumors about a dwarf wandering the halls of the Royal Wing at night...
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 10
Kudos: 102
Collections: Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2020





	Where Your Heart Rests

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humancorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humancorn/gifts).



> Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy, I really enjoyed writing this.

"You know," Bilbo said, his hands skimming over the edges of the books in Thorin's office. They were a haphazard pile of Khuzdul texts that had survived Smaug's fire. Thorin intended to keep them safe. "The rumor mill has been wheeling away at quite the rate."

"Is that so?" Thorin turned a parchment over, studying the runes, though his mind was elsewhere. "And what does the Hobbit of Erebor find so fascinating with rumors that he occupies himself with the spread of them, instead of cementing what craft he plans to pledge himself to?"

Bilbo made an indignant noise, snapping shut one of the books in a puff of dust. 

"Firstly," he said, turning to Thorin. "I told you not to call me that. Secondly, rumor mongering is as important as anything, Thorin. Don't you care what your people are talking about? Where their concerns lie?"

"In rumors?"

“If I know anything from the Shire, it is that people talk about anything and everything, and they spread word like wildfire in the height of Lithe. Perhaps it sounds ridiculous to you, but the common dwarf will be speaking of his concerns to his neighbor and so on. Before long, it will be all over Erebor, and likely have evolved far past what it was originally.”

Thorin gave him a suffering look, setting down his parchment. “What exactly is it you’ve been eavesdropping on, then?”

“Well I don’t know how much faith you can put in it, of course,” he said dismissively. 

“Yet you bring it up to me,” Thorin said, leaning back from his desk and watching as the hobbit set the book back down on the pile. 

“I don’t think it is much to be concerned about,” Bilbo said, and before Thorin could remind him that he had been the one to broach the subject at all, he turned towards Thorin. “There has been talk about the wanderings of a dwarf in the royal quarters at night. Likely word spread up from those young girls that service the royal wing. I don’t imagine there is much merit to it, but you should be aware of it.”

“I see,” Thorin said. 

“Is there something you know about all of that?” Bilbo poised the question as he stacked the texts together again. 

“No,” Thorin said, turning his eyes down to the runes in front of him. “I’m certain if I had any idea what you were talking about, then I would have addressed it. These are baseless rumors, Bilbo. You cannot believe everything that you hear, you know.”

“Mm,” the hobbit made a noncommittal sound, and though Thorin missed it, he wore a look of skepticism. When the dwarf did finally look up, over to where the hobbit stood, he found Bilbo tucking his hands into his pockets, like he always seemed to do when contemplating something. “Well! I have a meeting with Balin, your majesty, I best be off before he thinks I have bad manners by being late.”

Thorin heard the teasing tone in Bilbo’s voice, when he said your majesty. Had it been anyone else, Thorin might have taken offense, but he knew that Bilbo considered him his friend foremost, and the idea of Thorin as a king did not cross the hobbit’s mind as frequently. 

It was, in truth, a refreshing relationship to have. 

He wouldn’t dare ruin it with the feeling that tugged at his heart whenever Bilbo smiled his way. 

With a wave of his hand, Bilbo left Thorin to muse over the runes and Khuzdul texts that they’d salvaged. In truth, Bilbo had wished that he could read them, but when he’d inquired about it, Balin had informed him that Khuzdul was sacred to dwarves, and that there was very little chance he’d be able to ever learn it. 

Though, he had gleaned curse words from Nori and Bofur, and even an occasional curse word from Ori. The scribe had a mouth on him that would make his eldest brother turn red in the face if he ever heard it. 

Regardless, he wasn’t likely to learn more than what he’d been able to glean from the company. Bilbo kept his hands tucked in his pockets as he walked through Erebor, across the bridges that made him rather uneasy. He truly did not understand dwarven architecture, but they all seemed unconcerned with the vastness below. Bilbo, on the other hand, was certain that he’d fall one day. 

Thankfully, today was not that day. He arrived safely outside Balin’s office. 

Bilbo knocked on the door, and stepped in when he heard the old dwarf call out for him to come in. There, Balin sat, his tiny glasses perched on his nose as he read over documents. They’d had many meetings over the last weeks here and it had become a familiar place to Bilbo. Not necessarily a place of comfort, but it was something more than he’d had in Erebor. 

“Oh, good,” Balin said, setting down the documents. He gestured towards the chair across from him and once Bilbo had taken a seat, he crossed his hands over each other. “Have you given any more thought to my question from last week?”

“Aye, I have,” Bilbo looked around the office as he spoke, his nose twitching nervously. “If you think it’s best that I have a family here, then I can make a choice.”

“It will ensure your place among us,” Balin stated, reaching for a blank sheet of parchment. “You are already _Khuzdbâha_ , as Thorin declared when he was crowned. However, it would prove your place as such if you have dwarves that declare you their kin.”

Bilbo nodded, his eyes drawing back to Balin. “I spoke with Dori about this.”

“You are choosing the Ri’s?” Balin nodded, a warm smile blossoming on his face. “That is a fine choice.”

“I understand that they are not necessarily…” He hesitated. Balin held up a hand. 

“Their social standing might have been questionable in the past, but they are nobles. Even more with their titles from Thorin. Besides, Dori is the head of the Weaver’s Guild, Ori is an apprentice to myself, and Nori is the Spymaster. They’re a fine family to consider your own.”

“They’ve always looked out for me,” Bilbo said softly. Balin smiled and began writing out the document. As he listened to the scratch of the quill, Bilbo pondered his early conversation with Balin. He swallowed and sat forward slightly. “Balin… has Thorin been sleeping?”

Balin’s quill paused. “Why do you ask?”

“Er, it’s only… I’ve been hearing rumors about a dwarf in the night in the royal quarters. I mentioned it to him, and he brushed it away.” Bilbo watched Balin’s expression. “I only worry that perhaps he is not getting any sleep.”

“I will admit that he has been less than present,” Balin said, setting his quill down. “Though I assumed that taking up the true mantle of king was causing that. Perhaps someone should see to it that he does get sleep.”

“You’re not suggesting we drug him!” Bilbo said, scandalized. 

“Did I say that?” Balin raised a brow at Bilbo, but there was an amused smile set on his face as he shuffled around his papers and scrolls. “Though that would simplify things, I believe… but all that Thorin needs, I think, would be a few good night’s sleep. What’s the saying… ah… heavy rests the head that wears the crown.” 

“I don’t think that’s right,” Bilbo muttered, shaking his head. 

“No matter, Bilbo. If you think that you can help the king rest, I’d suggest you do so. Or at least find out if he is the one wandering around the royal wing at night. We should know, either way.”

“Shouldn’t that be Nori’s job?” Bilbo crossed his arms. 

“You can ask your brother,” Balin said, smiling in that knowing way that Bilbo hated. He rolled up the paper, handing it over to Bilbo. “Dori needs to sign this.”

“I’ll bring it to him,” the hobbit sighed, tucking the scroll under his arm. “Thank you, Balin.”

Traveling back through the mountain was becoming easier each time that Bilbo had to do it. He was learning the feeling of the mountain slowly, though he’d never have the knack for it that the other dwarves did. Bofur had said that many dwarves had decent stone sense, and traversing through Erebor was a second nature to them. He’d also said that he was one of the only dwarves that had a strong stone sense. Apparently, the only other dwarf that experienced the sense the way Bofur did was Thorin. 

But of course, that made sense. Thorin was the king. He should. 

At least Bilbo was no longer finding himself lost in Erebor. That was not fun, nor was it easy for him to find his way back to a place that he recognized. It likely helped that he was no longer going around the lower levels. Thorin, along with Dwalin and Dori, had forbidden him from doing so.

He might have been offended, if he wasn’t constantly lost when he went into the lower levels. Besides, he had access to the market and his rooms, as well as his friends, on the upper levels. He didn’t have much need for the lower levels. 

Slowly, Bilbo made his way to the royal wing. Despite the fact that the only dwarves that were supposed to reside there was the royal family, Thorin had given rooms for extended family to the members of the company. 

They were like family, after all. 

Bilbo would be content to spend his evening with Dori and Ori, and maybe Nori, if he ventured back to the suite before it was too late. Under different circumstances, Bilbo might have stayed with the dwarves even later, falling asleep in an armchair by the fireplace while Ori knitted, but he had decided to follow Balin’s advice. 

A stakeout wasn’t something Bilbo had done since he was a youth, keen on nabbing pies from the windows of old hobbit matrons. It would be quite different in the darkened halls of a mountain kingdom, when his quarry was a dwarf king and not blackberry pie, but Bilbo would at least try. 

If it wasn’t Thorin, then he’d let it be… so long as it wasn’t an intruder upon the royal wing. 

Thankfully, by the time Bilbo had left, Nori had returned. The thief had been curled up by Ori and the fire, balancing a bottle of wine awkwardly as he went on talking about his escapades of the day. Bilbo had yawned, feigning sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon trick of his, but he’d done it so often that the dwarves likely didn’t know he wasn’t truly tired. That, or they did, but they were just polite enough to let him be. 

Either way, Bilbo slipped from the suite of rooms and out into the dark hall. 

From the rumors, it was about the time when the supposed dwarf wandered the halls. Bilbo hesitated, debating on what he should do. He had learned early on in the quest that dwarves could see fine in the dark, which was useful for mining. It was unlikely that he’d be able to hide in the shadows until the wanderer came long. They’d see him long before he saw them. 

He paused in the doorway and slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling the warmth of the ring against his fingers. Bilbo slid it onto his finger, closing his eyes for a moment against the strange feeling that came upon him whenever he wore it. The world felt colder, muted around him, but he pushed past it and moved silently down the hall. 

As he neared the king’s rooms, he paused. If it was Thorin, sooner or later, he’d come back to his room, or he’d come out of them. It was probably the best place to keep an eye out for now. 

It did not take very long. 

Bilbo leant against the wall, watching Thorin’s door and occasionally looking up and down the hall. Even if he couldn’t see in the dark, dwarves were quite loud when they moved, and he’d easily hear if anyone came up or down the hall. 

Or out of the doors. 

His head shot up at the sound of the door into Thorin’s rooms opening. It was the very dwarf himself stepping out, his furred cloak pulled tight around his shoulders as he stepped, somewhat quietly, into the corridor. Now that Bilbo thought about it, as he studied Thorin’s face, the dwarf did appear to look exhausted. There were heavier bags under his eyes than Bilbo had thought, but reflecting back, he was certain that the dwarf had had them earlier as well. 

How long had he had them?

“Aha!” Bilbo leapt from the wall, slipping his ring off his finger and into his pocket as he did so. His sudden appearance in the hall startled Thorin. 

The king took a surprised step back. “Bilbo?”

“I knew it!” He exclaimed. “You are the one wandering around in the middle of the night.”

“Where did you come from?” Thorin asked, his voice exasperated. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Does that matter? As I recall, you had hired me to steal into this very mountain. You should be expectant that I am able to do so.”

Slowly, Thorin’s shoulders relaxed and a warm smile took over his expression. “I am glad to know that my master burglar maintains his abilities as such, but I would prefer if he did not use them to startle me in the middle of the night.” 

“Yes, yes,” Bilbo waved him off, stepping closer to Thorin, and peering up at him. “Why are you wandering the hall in the middle of the night, Thorin?”

“I could ask you the same,” the dwarf answered, folding his arms in front of his chest. He raised an eyebrow. Even when sleep-deprived, the dwarf managed to look as majestic as he always did. 

“I told you,” he said, slipping his hands to rest on his hips. “I am investigating those rumors I told you about. I had an inkling that it was you.”

“Is that not something Nori should do?”

“Would you rather I or Nori find you walking around in the middle of the night?” Bilbo countered. Thorin snorted softly. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“I am simply having trouble sleeping,” Thorin said after a moment. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes, it does,” Bilbo sighed, watching Thorin for a moment. “How long have you been having problems with sleeping?”

“Bilbo--” Thorin started, but cut himself off at the look that the hobbit gave him. “It does not need to be your problem-- I… I have not been able to sleep well since we arrived in Erebor.”

“What?” Bilbo stared at him. “Thorin, that’s… it’s been months! Why didn’t you bring this up? Or talk to Oin?”

“I would rather not trouble anyone with something that is trivial like this.”

“Trivial!” Bilbo threw his hands up, scoffing. “Thorin, your rest and well-being are not trivial, especially as the king of a kingdom!”

“Bilbo--”

“If you are not rested, how can you lead your people and ensure the prosperity of your kingdom?” Bilbo poised the question, narrowing his eyes at Thorin. 

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Bilbo snapped, and then he rubbed at his chin, before he took a step closer to Thorin. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on, Thorin,” Bilbo ushered the king back into his rooms. He closed the door gently behind them and then turned back to look at him. “Is there anything specific going on, Thorin? Are you stressed from taking on the king’s mantle again?”

“No, no, it’s not that…” Thorin said, looking away from the hobbit. From here, Bilbo could see the desk that Thorin used when he worked in his rooms. He expected it to be laden with work, but it was neat, and the scrolls and books were stacked nicely to the side. 

“Then what is it? If you cannot sleep, Oin could make you a draught, I’m sure.”

Thorin let out a soft sigh. “I don’t want to drug myself to sleep.”

“Let me help you, Thorin. Please.” When Thorin looked back at him. Bilbo’s expression was pleading. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I… I have spent so many years sleeping on the road, expecting that at any moment I might be awoken by someone or something attacking me, it is… difficult to train myself to sleep without worrying about that.” Thorin sat down, dropping his face into his hands. 

Slowly, Bilbo approached him and sat down next to him, placing a hand gently on Thorin’s upper arm. “No one is going to attack you, Thorin. Everyone in this mountain sees you as their king, and you are more than protected.”

Thorin didn’t say anything, though he did peek at Bilbo from between his fingers. Bilbo offered him a small smile, his hand squeezing the dwarf’s arm in a gentle show of comfort. Slowly, Thorin reached up and covered Bilbo’s hand with his. 

The dwarf tried to ignore the feeling that pulled in his chest when he felt Bilbo’s hand under his. 

“It is not that, I… feel quite uncomfortable without someone at my back, when I sleep,” Thorin said, after a long moment passed between them. “It is hard to unlearn the comfort of having a sleeping partner.”

“Oh,” Bilbo said, and he looked towards the fire, trying to ignore the flush in his cheeks. Was that what Thorin wanted? A bed partner? He supposed it wasn’t something he’d really thought of, nor did he want to. 

“Please, do not burden yourself with this. I will manage.”

“No, if… if that’s what you need, I’m sure we can--”

“I would not ask that of you,” Thorin hurried to say and when Bilbo looked at him, the dwarf’s cheeks were as red as his. 

“Thorin, all I want is to make sure that you are well. You need your rest.” Bilbo said, and he squeezed Thorin’s arm again. He hoped to reassure him but it was difficult to tell if he was truly doing anything.

Thorin closed his eyes for a moment and then let out a soft sigh. “Then you would… rest with me?”

“Yes, if that is what you want. Of course I would.”

The dwarf smiled, his eyes dropping down for a moment. “Thank you, Bilbo. I still do not wish to burden you with this, but I would appreciate it, if you… if you would.”

“I did say yes, Thorin,” Bilbo teased softly, a warm smile blooming on his mouth. “Shall we, then? I think it’d be best if you show me how you want to do… this.”

“Ah, of course,” Thorin stood, and after a moment of hesitation, he held out his hand to Bilbo. Bilbo took it, standing and then he followed Thorin as the dwarf led them to the bedroom. 

The bedroom was not somewhere that Bilbo had been before. It was as grand as he could have imagined. The bed itself stole most of his attention, as it was far larger than any he’d seen in Erebor thus far, and though he couldn’t quite compare it, he thought it might be bigger than the one in Bag End. It was covered in furs and pelts, and to be quite honest, it looked as though it would be easy to fall on the bed and merely fall asleep. 

Bilbo didn’t know how Thorin didn’t get to rest with a bed like this. 

His attention drew back towards Thorin, when the dwarf moved to undo his surcoat. “What are you doing?” Bilbo asked, feeling startled. 

Thorin paused in his movements. “We are no longer on the road, Bilbo, and I prefer to not sleep with all of my clothes on. It is rather uncomfortable, but you are free to sleep as you choose.”

Bilbo scoffed and crossed his arms. “Yes, well, my night shirt is in my room, and I think it would be far more suspicious if I were to leave and then come back with that.”

The dwarf eyed him for a moment, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to undress. Bilbo had the wits about himself to look away. He knew that he would have to undress as well, else he’d be rather uncomfortable as well, and worse, he’d have to deal with wrinkled clothes come morning. Slowly, the hobbit began to undress, though he very much wished that he’d thought this ordeal through. 

It wasn’t as if either of them would be naked, but they’d be bare enough that his own sensibilities were being tugged on. 

When Bilbo did look up again, Thorin stood there, bare except for his pants. Bilbo did his best to not immediately lose it. He focused on the buttons of his waistcoat, but they were being rather stubborn and refusing to work under his trembling fingers. Goodness, they were only sleeping next to each other, it wasn’t as if Thorin had truly propositioned him. 

And hadn’t he brought this down on himself?

Thorin sat down on the bed, and Bilbo hurried to finish undressing. If the king was not sleeping, there was no reason for him to continue keeping the poor dwarf from sleeping any longer. Not if he could help it, anyway. 

“Right,” Bilbo said, trying his best to not feel awkward in only his underthings. “So… what would be comfortable?”

“I believe the main struggle I have is not having someone near my back, or next to me,” Thorin said, as Bilbo joined him on the edge of the bed. “Perhaps you might sleep at my back. And we will see if that works.”

“Alright,” he said, breathing in and watching Thorin as the dwarf shifted onto the bed. He waited until it seemed like the dwarf was comfortable. It was slightly awkward, shuffling onto the bed and under the furs, pressing up behind Thorin. Despite the coldness of the mountain, there was quite a lot of heat underneath the blankets, perhaps from the dwarf himself. Either way, Bilbo at least was certain that he would not be cold through the night. 

“Are you comfortable?” Thorin asked. 

“Ah,” Bilbo heistated. His arms were in a bit of an awkward position, if he were honest, bunched up against Thorin, but he did not want to voice that. If this was to work, he didn’t want Thorin to feel awkward about it. 

Before he could say more, he felt the dwarf reach back and pull his arm, securing it around his chest. 

Oh. Oh dear.   
  
He was well aware of the fact that Thorin was quite muscular. It would have been hard to miss during their quest, and even if he had, seeing him disrobe earlier would have been impossible to miss. With his arm tucked around Thorin’s chest, he could feel the muscle definition of the dwarf quite well. Before he realized what he was doing, Bilbo’s hand groped one of Thorin’s pecs. 

Thorin stilled next to him. 

Bilbo flushed, relaxing his hand as he tried to work out what to say. 

“Is.. is this helping at all?” He asked, after an awkward moment had passed between them. 

“Well,” Thorin said, his voice low, and for a moment, Bilbo wondered if he was about to be thrown out of the bed, “I know I needn’t worry about anything with you at my back.”

“I told you before that you didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“Aye, and I know that well, but as I said before…” Thorin trailed off and sighed. 

“I know, I’m just… trying to reassure you,” Bilbo said, and slowly he lifted a hand, hoping that the petting of the dwarf’s chest would not be taken as offensive. He could not resist the want to touch, even as he was doing it to offer an uncertain comfort. “But, Thorin, you will have to learn to sleep without someone by your side, you know? I’m sure you’ll manage that.”

All Bilbo had for an answer in return was the soft sound of Thorin’s breathing, interrupted by a snore, as he realized, quite suddenly, that the dwarf had fallen asleep. 

It wasn’t long before Bilbo himself drifted to sleep. 

When Bilbo woke in the morning, he found himself in a tangle of dwarven limbs. Though he had experienced this a few times on the road, with the Ri brothers, as dwarves seemed to like to sleep in packs, it was not the same when the dwarf tangled around him was Thorin. 

Thorin, who felt like a forge, pressed up against him. Thorin, whose hair was tousled and mussed from his sleep. Thorin, who, to Bilbo, looked more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen, or ever shared a bed with. 

Thorin, who, as Bilbo quickly realized, definitely had a hard-on that was pressed against Bilbo’s thigh. 

This was not something that Bilbo had experienced before, and he froze in his shifting. That had definitely woken him up fully. It would be best, he thought, to extract himself from Thorin and pretend like that hadn’t happened. To save them both the embarrassment. Else Bilbo might do something that he would regret, that Thorin would regret, and he really didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Thorin. 

Despite his declaration of family with Dori, Nori, and Ori, Bilbo knew deep down that Thorin would always be the most important dwarf to him. 

He’d fallen in love with the king long ago, but he’d accepted that those feelings would remain in his chest. So long as he got to see Thorin smile, hear him laugh… he’d be more than happy. But he wouldn’t ruin it with a half-awake mistake. 

Slowly, he shifted to start untangling himself from Thorin, or rather, the dwarf from around him. It was not an especially easy task but if he moved slowly, quietly enough, then he wouldn’t wake Thorin. Bilbo wanted him to get as much sleep as he could, before the morning bell rang and woke the king for his duties. 

Bilbo lost his balance when he tried to prop himself up. 

He cursed the Valar, as Thorin’s eyes slowly opened. The dwarf let out a soft noise, grimacing as he slowly woke up. Slowly, he met Bilbo’s eyes. Thorin frowned, confusion clouding his expression as he took in the hobbit’s expression and his presence in the dwarf’s bed. 

“Bilbo?”

“Good morning,” he squeaked out, and felt Thorin’s arm tighten around his waist where it had been curled. 

“Good indeed,” Thorin said, his gaze drawing down Bilbo’s frame slowly. “Is this a dream?”

“A… a dream?” Bilbo swallowed, unconsciously licking his lips. 

Whether Thorin was still half asleep, or simply because Bilbo had licked his lips, the dwarf pressed closer to him. He could feel the press of Thorin’s erection against his thigh, but that fled from his mind as Thorin kissed him deeply and desperately. A second passed, though it felt much, much longer, before Bilbo pressed up against Thorin as much as he could and buried his hands in the dwarf’s hair, kissing him back enthusiastically. 

Thorin’s hand dragged through Bilbo’s hair, tugging gently as he nipped at Bilbo’s lower lip. Slowly, it occurred to Bilbo that they should not be doing this, even if he wanted to and it seemed that Thorin did as well. It was hard to push Thorin back, to cut the kiss off, but Bilbo Baggins was a practical hobbit, thank you very much, and he would have words with Thorin before the kissing made him lose his rational thoughts. 

“Wait, wait,” Bilbo managed, pressing a hand between their mouths, to stop Thorin when he tried to kiss Bilbo again. 

“I am finally able to kiss you, and you stop me?” Thorin huffed, but his expression was soft and open, and he made no move to push Bilbo’s hand away. He respected the distance between their mouths, at the least. 

“I just think we should-- wait, what do you mean finally?” Bilbo paused, his eyes moving from their fixation on Thorin’s mouth to his eyes instead. “Have you wanted to kiss me?”

“Yes, of course I have,” Thorin replied, and he sat back. Without the bulk of Thorin against him, Bilbo’s thoughts cleared more. “But I would never impose my own desires upon you. I apologize, I thought that… I was pleasantly surprised to find you in my bed this morning, and then you… I do not wish to presume anything, Bilbo.”

“You’re not presuming anything,” Bilbo groaned, sitting up himself. “I would not have let you kiss me like that if I didn’t want you to! But I think that we should talk about this, before anything else.”

“You wanted to kiss me as well,” Thorin said, and when he grinned, Bilbo rolled his eyes. It was a fond gesture, however, a smile tugging at Bilbo’s mouth as he crossed his arms. “But of course we can talk.”

“First,” he led, holding up a finger, “did my presence help you sleep last night?”

“Yes,” Thorin answered, a softer smile taking over his grin, “better than I have in a while. In fact, I think you should join me every night…”

“Thorin,” Bilbo gave him a disapproving look, broken when his mouth slipped into a smile. “Second… do you… love me?”

Next to him, he watched Thorin pause. The dwarf met his eyes and then looked down, his cheeks flushing. “Yes, I love you. Of course I love you, Bilbo. I love you more each day, and--”

His words were cut off as Bilbo clambered forward, cupping his cheeks as he kissed him thoroughly. Thorin gasped softly, his hands coming up to curl into Bilbo’s hair and pulling him forward. He tumbled slightly, finding a seat in Thorin’s lap as the dwarf curled an arm around his lower back. Bilbo kissed him unhurriedly, enjoying the feeling of Thorin’s mouth against his and the brush of Thorin’s beard against his cheeks. 

Eventually, he did pull away, mostly to breathe. 

“ _Men lananubukhs me_ ,” Bilbo said, his words soft as he met Thorin’s eyes. He watched those beautiful blue eyes go wide and delighted in the shocked look in them. 

“Where did you learn that?” Thorin asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. 

“I do have a dwarven family now, Thorin,” he said, reaching up to tuck one of Thorin’s braids behind his ear. His fingers lingered as he met his eyes again. “You did declare me dwarf-friend, did you not? Am I not allowed to learn the language of… of my people?”

Thorin let out a small, breathless laugh as he gathered Bilbo up in his arms again. “You never cease to amaze me, _uzfakuh_.”

“I don’t know that one,” Bilbo muttered, making a face. Thorin chuckled, tilting Bilbo’s chin up and kissing him soundly. 

“I will teach you.”

And Bilbo found that he did not care for the rumors that would surely be spread throughout Erebor soon enough, not when he had a warm dwarf king wrapped around him, peppering his skin with whiskery kisses in the early morning hours. 

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul translations: 
> 
> Khuzdbâha - "Dwarf-friend"  
> Men lananubukhs me - I love you  
> Uzfakuh - my greatest joy


End file.
